decorations
by desolation
Summary: A little bit of seasonal fluff that was floating round in the author's brain. Pointless and kind of silly - enjoy!


 Author's Note: Daft, pointless story in which poor, poor Leon accidentally gets our favourite pet shop owner a little tipsy. Is it possible for Kami to get drunk? * is unsure** *** Ah well. It amused desolation's simple little mind. Update: A couple of people have said they didn't get the last sentence, so desolation will give you a clue (she didn't really stop to consider that this might only be a tradition in the UK or something) – you know how it's traditional to hang mistletoe in doorways at Christmas and if somebody catches you under it you have to give them a kiss? ;)

 Disclaimer: desolation does not own Leon, D or Pet Shop of Horrors, though she'd be jolly happy were she to find them under the Christmas tree. 

^*^

 It had been inevitable he'd end up here, really. He'd left the apartment in a black mood, unable to stand another minute of the "Now That's What I Call The Best Christmas No1's Ever" compilation being played at earache-inducing volume by the couple upstairs. Jill had gone to her parents' for Christmas, and there was no-one he felt like calling. He'd thought a walk might work off a little of his exasperation and headed out blindly, though random wandering through the city was no longer quite so random. Leon hated Christmas, he really fucking did.

 He sighed loudly. Couldn't he even try to get lost for a bit without ending up at this godforsaken place? Still, it wasn't like he had anyone else to talk to. There was a light on. D didn't seem to have a family of any description to go home to – hell, confectionary aside, did he even celebrate Christmas? Maybe - though he suspected not - D would be a bit less infuriating if Leon didn't have a crime to accuse him of. He supposed he couldn't go in there without some sort of candy though. Season of goodwill and all that crap.

^*^

 The icing-sugar snowman on the corner of the stall had evidently been a rather ambitious project. It leaned at a drunken angle and its nose looked about to fall off, but its iced-gem eyes were starting to freak Leon out. The way it lurched forward made it look as though it were perpetually lunging at him, and he half-expected it to let out a horror-movie cackle and try to eat his brain. 

 He shuffled further up the stall and decided to get some slightly-less-scary gingerbread Santas instead.

 The sight of all this sugar was making him feel sick though. Didn't they have something a bit more… hmm… alcoholic? Yeah, that was it. He'd go hang out with the dragonlady for a bit, then go home and get drunk. Spending Christmas Day comfortably numb seemed pretty appealing.

^*^

 To Leon's surprise, the door of the pet shop was unlocked. He frowned a little, but stepped inside anyway – then stopped in his tracks.

 Whatever he'd expected to see, it certainly wasn't the immaculate Count D decorating a Christmas tree, a pile of bright red tinsel draped around his shoulders, and attempting to untangle a string of fairy lights with one hand. And singing. "Away In A Manger".

 Leon stood in the doorway and gawped, open-mouthed, for a good ten seconds before bursting out laughing.

"Oh, hello officer." The Count turned round and smiled pleasantly. "I don't suppose you'd be so kind as to help me with these fairy lights?"

"Um, uh, sure… I guess…"

"Why, thank you. Oh, and is that confectionary? Really, Detective, you're too kind. I shall make us some tea immediately." Still smiling sweetly, D tweaked the bag of cookies out of Leon's hand and dumped the tangled string of fairy lights in his arms.

^*^

"Hmm mmm mm hmmm-mm mmm mmm…."

 An hour later, Leon had almost managed to get the fairy lights out of their series of unfathomable knots. However, he did think he might scream if he had to hear one more verse of "Away In A Manger" – and Q-chan seeming to think that his head was a Christmas tree that needed to be covered in tinsel wasn't helping any.

"D," he groaned, for the third time, "can you _please_ stop humming that damn song?"

"Oh, of course. I am sorry." D turned back to the Christmas tree and started humming something else. It sounded like "Little Donkey".

 Leon sighed and put his head in his hands. At this rate he was going to need a drink now. 

 Actually, that was an idea. After all, drinking on your own was kind of sad, right?

^*^

 D never drank alcohol. If it hadn't been far too bitter for his taste, its effect upon even the most civilised of humans would have been more than enough to put him off. Refusing an offer from his favourite detective, however, had been beyond him. And besides, it wasn't as though a few sips of wine were going to do him any harm…

"Aghhh! You little…"

He giggled. Q-chan's attempts to dive-bomb Leon with decorations were becoming inexplicably more amusing every time. Leon turned round and scowled at him.

"Hey! It's not funny!"

"But of course." Trying to stifle his laughter, D stood up and reached across to pick a sprig of mistletoe out of Leon's hair. He wobbled unsteadily. "Oh my. I feel a little… odd."

 Automatically, Leon put a hand out to steady him – but before he could do so, D lost his balance and toppled onto the couch, fortuitously avoiding the china tea-set and landing straight in his lap.

 Leon froze and barely managed not to yelp with shock.

"Oh goodness." D let out another giggle.

"Uh…" Leon searched frantically for something to say. D met his gaze innocently, eyebrows raised in inquiry. His eyes were soft, shining a little more brightly than usual through strands of dark hair, and the wine had stained his lips a darker shade of red. His soft weight was not unpleasant. Silky hair brushed Leon's hand.

"Well, don't you want to go and get some gingerbread.. or another glass of wine… or something?" Leon tried, desperately. 

"Why, Detective – anybody would think you were trying to get me drunk!"

Leon felt his face flush. He might be used to D's flirting by now, but the guy _still_ managed to embarrass him for some reason. 

"You're already drunk!" he accused.

"I assure you, Detective, I am quite…"

 D paused, a puzzled look crossing his face.

"You're quite… uh… sitting with your head in my lap." Leon pointed out, not unreasonably. 

"Oh. Oh yes. So I am."

He made no move to get up.

"Uh, well, aren't you gonna, like, move or something?" Leon cringed inwardly. Why the hell was he stammering like a teenager?

 "You're rather comfortable actually." D closed his eyes and made a contented little sound. This was fun. He was certainly a _little_ tipsy, but the excuse to enjoy Leon's panic was more than worth it.  

"Well, uh, um, do you want me to, um… make you some tea or something? It might, uh, make you feel better…" Leon sounded desperate. D smiled to himself, but relented.

"That's very kind of you, Detective. The tea is just through there."

Leon extricated himself with barely-disguised gratitude, and bolted into the next room.

 Well, that had been a fine idea. Leon made a mental note to the effect that alcohol and eccentric Chinese pet shop owners did not mix well. The scary thing was it had been starting to seem… well, kind of sweet. Leon shook his head and guessed he must be drunk too. Well, this was one experience he wouldn't be repeating again in a hurry.

 He wasn't finding any tea either. Wasn't it usually in the other room anyway?

"D? Where do you keep the…?"

As Leon stepped into the doorway, a pair of arms grabbed him round the waist. He span round, and was greeted with a familiar giggle. Violet and gold eyes met his own, glittering with mischief.

 He looked up, and went pale. It appeared that D's Christmas decorating hadn't stopped with tinsel.


End file.
